


He's Not a Harlequin; She's Not His Columbine

by Grenoelle



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Orphanage, Parent Death, Platonic Romance, Spoilers, but they do Take Off The Clothes, up to interpretation whether it's romantic or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-29 02:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grenoelle/pseuds/Grenoelle
Summary: Oma and Harukawa knew each other years before the killing game; they first met while staying at the same orphanage. That brief time would be etched into Oma's heart forever. It meant so much more to him than it ever did her.Does that make it a tragic romance?





	1. The Hero Clown

“What’s going on?” Harukawa yawned as she came down the steps. It was dark save for the light in the dining room. She entered, only to see the orphanage's newest addition slaving away at… masks. Like a kindergartner’s project. But he was her age, fifteen. “Uh... hey. What are you doing?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s 2AM.”

His eyes darted her way, but didn’t move his head.

“Getting the heck out of here.” He answered simply. “What are you doing?”

As if that was enough of an explanation, he turned his attention back to his work.

Harukawa watched him paint red lips on his mask in silence. She couldn’t tell how serious he was. Harukawa would say it was because she was still half-asleep, but really she had only just met the boy, and she was bad at reading people in general. There was no way, though. There was no way the mask was related to what he just said. She decided to ignore the nonsense.

“This isn’t your parents’ house, you can’t just-”

“You think I don’t know that, bitch?”

Harukawa’s red eyes seemed to glow threateningly.

“What did you just call-?!”

He raged back, turning fully to her. Harukawa could not read faces, but she knew the reflection of violent thoughts in someone’s eyes.

“Do you really think I don’t know this isn’t my parents’ house?" He was snarling out his words; spittle made little dots in the mask's paint. "They’re dead. Our parents are  _dead_. Or maybe you got abandoned, it’d make sense with that attitude.”

If not for the context of how she'd met him, he would be intolerable, but Harukawa kept her cool. She knew he was a mess for a reason. She pitied him, in fact, she was jealous of him. She didn’t remember her parents. If she did, then maybe she could be angry too. Harukawa toyed with the hair of one of her pigtails in a huff. He went back to working.

“How…” Harukawa started again. She walked over slowly and sat down in the chair next to him. Might as well try to talk to him, understand him. Maybe it was a mental lapse; so many other residents lost themselves while trying to process their grief. “How is this going to help you escape?”

He smirked at her, laughed playfully. The anger was gone as soon as it came. It was hard to remember they were the same age. He was so immature… Or was she too mature? Did she grow up too quickly? No, well, maybe she did, but something about him wasn’t right. This boy was weird. Maybe he was-

“I’m forming an evil organization. We’re called D.I.C.E.” He said it as though it already existed. “We do whatever we want, no adults, no laws, although I’m the leader, so everyone still has to do what I say.”

Harukawa stared at his face again. He seemed like he was all there, but he still didn’t make any sense. She had no idea what he was really thinking, but he sure was focused on painting.

“And this is..?”

“These are masks, duh. Have you ever tried to rob a business without a mask?”

“No.”

He looked back at her, serious for a second.

“Me neither.” The smile came back. “And why would you want to? They’d catch your face on camera and you’d be arrested.” He waved his hands in the air as though it helped explain.

“Of course…”

“Wanna help?” She didn’t really want to, but she felt an odd obligation to him. It was, at least in part, her desire to keep the other kids safe. That was what Harukawa gave her life up for.

“You’re asking me if I want to help you make masks for your evil organization.”

“Well, you don’t _have_ to,” he sing-songed. “But yeah, you can. I have a bunch that need to be painted.” He put the one he’d been working on aside, then started another, again only doing the lips.

Maki sighed and took an unpainted mask in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. She had to get up early the next day, but she was already here. Harukawa was coming to terms with the fact that she couldn’t stop herself from helping; she may have hated some of her fellow residents, or thought they were crazy, but she still cared about them. Further, her inability to read people made this boy a particularly odd puzzle. He made absolutely no sense. She didn’t know what was genuine and what wasn’t. If she could understand, maybe…

“What’s your name, anyway?”

“Oma Kokichi. But keep it to yourself, okaay?” He held a finger to his lips. “In a few years, that name will get you _anywhere_." His voice was mystical for just a second, but then he went back to speaking like a kid. "And? What about you?”

“Harukawa Maki.” Neither of them stopped painting until around 4, when Oma insisted they needed to let them dry before he hid them again. She helped him put the paints back. They chatted for a while. And finally, they brought the masks to the bedrooms together, and he stuffed them under his other things. They didn’t get much sleep.

Oma had only been with them for a month before he woke her in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” he whispered. Instinctively, Harukawa grabbed for the throat. Even this young, she’d been training for some time, and she already found herself getting violent when caught off-guard. But when she saw who it was, she released him quickly. It was good that the room was dark, so one couldn’t see the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. She hated what she was becoming.

“Jeez…” Oma rubbed his neck, still quiet.

“What do you want?” It was strange, even if Harukawa couldn’t understand what he was thinking, she could tell he knew what _she_ was thinking. It wasn’t quite threatening, just a strange contrast she never thought about until that moment. He knew she was embarrassed, he knew she cared.

“I’m leaving tonight. You wanna come?” Harukawa couldn’t believe it. Oma was actually getting out. But…

“I can’t.”

“Why..?” he half-whined. Did he really intend to become an evil leader with that attitude? She looked away.

“You know why. I can’t leave her, if I do, she'll…”

“No, I know.” Then why did he ask? What was he feeling? Was he disappointed? Nonchalant? She hadn’t the slightest clue. “But I know you hate it here too. I don’t know when, but we’ll come back. If things change, y'know, D.I.C.E. could use an assassin. And sex appeal~”

Maki leaned over as though intending to grab him again. He played along by dodging her. She only missed because she was playing around.

“Do you want to die?”

He laughed, but quickly covered his mouth. She smirked too. If they had been serious, she could have killed him. It was a strange kind of joke.

“I’ll see you later, Maki.”

Oma never came back to the orphanage. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he couldn’t, for some reason. She wouldn’t have joined him anyway, of course, but wasn’t that cruel? Was it really just a lie?

* * *

“I'm Oma Kokichi, the Ultimate Supreme Leader.” Harukawa took a page from his book while he bullshitted her. She stared blankly, tried to move onto the next person, but he wouldn’t shut up. “I lead an evil organization with members from all over the world.” She had to keep up the expression of absolutely nothing. “From behind the scenes, I control everything.” He was such a _fucking_ liar.

“Oh.” Her voice was disinterested. It felt foreign, like she was imitating someone else. “I’m Harukawa Maki, the Ultimate Child Caregiver.”

He laughed.

 


	2. The Little Dove

Harukawa wasn’t happy. But Oma pulled all the right cards, and begged and begged and begged, and now here they were together, alone, in her Ultimate Lab.

“That’s really cool,” Oma noted, motioning to the knives she was sharpening. “Uh, if it’s not a pain, can you teach me?”

Harukawa looked over with vile in her crimson eyes. Somehow, it didn’t change the smile on Oma’s face. Like he didn't even notice how weird he was. _What the fuck._ He’d never made sense before, and it was clear he never would.

“You _actually_ made your evil organization, and you never learned how to sharpen knives?”

“Nooope.” He said, popping the p. She took a knife from the wall and threw it at him. It landed two inches away from his face. He laughed and pulled it out of the wall. Apparently he didn’t even care. Well, he’d known she could kill him for years. They'd played those games before. But how did he know she wouldn't suddenly be serious this time?

Harukawa approached and sat next to him.

“You start by holding it like-”

“I don’t care.”

Harukawa resisted the urge to plunge her knife into him. Why wasn’t he threatened?

“You just asked," She hissed, tense. "Stop wasting my time. Go bother someone else. You like Tojo, maybe-”

Oma slid his knife across the floor away from him. Hands free, then, he gently held Harukawa’s arm. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her. She stared at him, uncertain. When it was clear she wasn’t going to move away, he slowly moved his right hand down to her waist.

“What are you doing? Do you want to die?”

He had to be aware of the knife still in her hand. She could really kill him. It was far too easy, and he should have been threatened, but he wasn’t.

“We deserve to live to the end, Maki.” As though they were that familiar that he could use her first name. “But they don’t trust us.”

“We’re not a pair. Nobody trusts you. They have no reason to distrust me.”

“Not yet.” Oma daringly moved himself in front of her, swinging his legs so that they were on either side of hers. He brought both his hands down to her hips and then under her shirt. She expected his hands to be smaller and softer than they were. His hands, though, may have been the only things that had changed. Rough and calloused now. What had he done? What had that little boy done? Harukawa didn't stop his touching her. It was weird, but ti didn't feel bad. Still, she kept her icy glare up while he continued. “Eventually, someone will find out. You can’t hide your lab forever.” Harukawa let go of her knife and pressed a finger to his lips. It felt like there were two conversations at once, and she couldn’t keep track. He stuck his tongue out in response, forcing her to pull her hand back.

“You’re so difficult.” Harukawa complained, wiping her finger on her skirt. “Why do you act like a child?”

Oma smirked, leaning in closer until their noses touched.

“I do not.”

“Yes you-”

“I do nooot.”

He was just fucking with her.

“Be straight with me, Oma. Why do you still seem to like me so much? Even back then- I don’t get it. Most of the older kids were afraid of me.”

Oma answered more quietly than usual. She could only assume that he was serious now.

“Well, you're scary, don't get me wrong, but that’s why I like you. Being trained to be an assassin is so cool. I just wish you did it voluntarily. Or even… just came and joined D.I.C.E.” They both knew why she couldn’t have left with him. She sighed, then sharply inhaled when Oma pressed his lips against hers. She was fine with whatever was going on before, but Harukawa had never been kissed before. It only lasted a few seconds, but their faces shared a mutual warmth once they’d parted. Oma greedily pulled up her shirt, but she stopped him, gripping his arms tightly. He let go immediately, and as soon as she released him, his arms went to his sides.

“I thought you were into it-” Harukawa reached for his neck. Oma didn’t flinch. She pulled off his scarf, messing up his hair a bit in the process. They exchanged uneasy smiles. Harukawa led his hands back to her body, now assured he was genuine in his advances.

“I just wanted to make sure,” she whispered in explanation.

“You think so little of me, huh?” The Assassin wondered if she was wrong to do so. Despite what he said, he didn’t seem offended. Oma pulled up her shirt as he’d attempted before, and this time she lifted her arms for him instead of resisting. It was difficult to show so much of oneself for the first time. Harukawa was embarrassingly underdeveloped for her age- but then she supposed Oma had it worse in that regard. He certainly didn’t indicate that it bothered him. His eyes were unexpectedly drawn to her abs as opposed to her breasts anyway. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but it didn’t bother her quite as much as it had before the killing game. This was especially so when he seemed more honest with her than with anyone else. He talked more like he had on the night they made masks together than the night he left the orphanage.

It was a foggy memory for her, but a nice enough one.

“I know you don’t care,” Oma half mumbled to himself, “But you’re really beautiful. Something you didn’t even want to do affected you so much, it made you so good-”

“I had to save her, Oma.”

“I know!" Was he taking this seriously? His response was too cheerful, but somehow it didn't feel disingenuous. God, she'd never get him. "You’re like the total opposite of me! Honorable and so honest that you can’t even read lies. Your whole life is doing things you don’t wanna do, just to help other people. I only do what I want, even when it hurts everyone else. Kinda gross, isn’t it?”

“You’re not,” she affirmed instinctively. This conversation was getting into confusing territory (as if she hadn't been lost already). She really, really didn’t understand him. More to distract herself from this than because she was bursting with desire, Harukawa began to undo Oma’s strange D.I.C.E. uniform buttons.

“Do you want people to hate you?” She asked it quietly and prayed for a sensible response.

“Yep, you got me! I’m trying to make most people hate me. It’s weird, isn’t it?” She still didn’t know if that was true. She could only assume…

“People aren’t born evil.” That she could say with cold confidence, experience. “You can do evil things and become an evil person, but there’s no way anyone is born wanting to do bad. Anyway… you’re really calling me honorable- do you think it’s honorable to kill? I don’t know why I had to assassinate many of my victims. So many lives were lost without me knowing if it was justified.” She pulled off Oma’s jacket… thing with an unneeded amount of aggression. Oma was not deterred, and in fact argued back with equal force.

“You did it for a reason.” She was only half listening, as the other half of her focus was on Oma’s body. She was shocked at how toned he was, considering he didn’t appear to grow at all since she’d seen him before. “To protect someone you cared about. I wanna do the stuff like that… just because.”

“Do what? What does D.I.C.E. do, Oma?” Her eyes raged again. “How many people have you killed?” He went quiet. She waited.

“I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Of course you haven’t. So stop acting like you know anything about what it means to be a villain. You’re just a lost little kid-”

“So are you!”

It was Harukawa’s turn to go quiet. He did not wait for her, however; he was moved by the silence.

“You’re just a kid too! Why do I have to remind you that you did what you had to do to survive? It was never your fault.” He’d gotten strangely riled up, but now he softened again. “We both know there are going to be more murders here. Us _kids_ are going to kill each other and _kids_ are going to die. We’re all selfish and confused. Is that evil to you, too?”

“Yes, of course it is. How hard is it to understand that killing is evil, always?”

He went quiet too, but only for a second. Then he cackled and shrugged before kissing her again.

He never did listen, did he?


End file.
